Sunday, November 1, 2015

A Lavish Feast -- All Saint's Day

Isaiah 25:6-9

November 1,
2015

What foods do you think of when you
hear the word feast? If a feast were
to be served in your honor, what gourmet goodies would you want to see on the table?
What dishes of delight would you want to chow down upon? I’ve been fortunate –
extremely fortunate – to partake in some pretty amazing and delectable meals
over the course of my life. If I haven’t told you about the chicken and waffles
I had over Mother’s Day, see me after the service is over. But when it comes to
what I think of as a feast, I think of Christmas Eve in my house growing up. I
think of my dad’s Swedish meatballs.

As far as we know, without having a
DNA test done, my dad is all German. Both his mother and father were of long
German lineage, so my dad is about as German as we can imagine. But for some
reason, for as long as I can remember, he became the Swedish meatball maker extraordinaire.
My dad isn’t really a cook. My mom was and is the cook of the family. But dad’s
Swedish meatballs set the standard that the rest of us have to live up to. I’m
still striving to reach his high bar.

He would make them the day before
Christmas Eve. Any dog we had in the family stayed close by his side, taunted and
tortured by the smell of all that heavenly meat. Dad keeps track of how many he
makes; I’m not sure if he’s gone over the 200 meatball mark, but I know he’s
come close. My sister-in-law, Mary Jo,
is allergic to onions. When she joined the family, dad started making a special
batch just for her.

We always had tons of wonderful food
at our Christmas Eve table: spiraled ham, baked rice pudding, assorted rolls
and vegetables. If family came from Minnesota, we would have Swedish sausage as
well. Dessert would be an assortment of all the Christmas cookies my mother had
been baking for weeks and peppermint stick ice cream. But for me, Dad’s Swedish
meatballs were the highlight of our family’s lavish feast.

Isaiah does not mention meatballs as
being on the menu of the feast the Lord will give his people. We do read of
rich food and well-aged wines. We read of the feast being served on this mountain. While the word holy is not used in conjunction with mountain, it is not hard to imagine that
any mountain the Lord resides on is a holy one. Isaiah goes on to say that
while the people swallow their food, the Lord will also do some swallowing.
Instead of food, the Lord will swallow up death forever. The shroud – that death
sheet – that has been cast over the people will be destroyed by the Lord on
this mountain. The sheet – that woven cloth – which has been spread over all
the nations will also be destroyed. The people will consume food. But the Lord
will consume death. The Lord will wipe away the tears from all faces. The Lord
God will take away the disgrace of his people from all the earth. At this
feast, on this mountain, the sorrow of the people – their tears, their grief,
their disgrace will be wiped away. Death will be done, swallowed up, by the
Lord.

The imagery of this passage is
magnificent. It is poetry at its most powerful. It is not just describing a
lavish feast. It is describing an eschatological hope. Feast imagery is used in
other passages in both testaments. But certainly in the Old Testament, stories
of feasts are used to illustrate the ways the wealthy and powerful live by the
exploitation of the poor and vulnerable. While the rich feast, the poor starve.
While the powerful sit down to sumptuous spreads, the vulnerable beg in the
streets. But this feast is not thrown by a wealthy tyrant. This feast will be
given by God himself. This feast will not be held in honor of the A list. There
will be no guest list at this feast. Instead all peoples will be invited. In three verses, the word all is used five times.

“The Lord of hosts will make for all peoples…”

“And he will destroy in this mountain
the shroud that is cast over all
peoples, the sheet that is spread over all
nations;”

The Lord God will wipe away the
tears from all faces, and the disgrace of his people he will take away from all the earth.”

The Lord God will give a lavish
feast for all people, not only for the nourishment of bodies, but for the
sustenance of their souls. All that has pinned people, weighted them down,
mired them in the sorrows of the world will be removed. They will no longer be
covered in shrouds or sheets. They will no longer be consumed by the defeat of
death. The Lord will swallow death.

This is a beautiful passage for the
day when we celebrate all the saints – those that are public and those that are
personal. I’m assuming the creators of the lectionary agree with me, which is
why they chose these words of Isaiah for this day. On a day set aside for us to
intentionally remember the saints who have gone before us, it is beyond
comforting to hear of God destroying that which breaks our hearts. It is beyond
comforting to know that God will swallow
up death itself, and in the end wipe every tear from our eyes.

But what I find so profound in these
words and images is that all this done at the table. All this takes place at a
lavish feast given by the Lord for all people. You see today is not only the
day when we remember those saints who have gone before us. A saint, by the way,
is not just a perfect person or someone canonized by the Roman church. A saint
is a believer. A saint is someone of faith. Not perfect, just faithful. On this
day, this All Saint’s Day, we lift up the believers who have meant something to
us; who have influenced us, guided us and taught us. And we do this by gathering
around this table; this table which connects us to God, to one another, and to
the saints living and departed.

To me gathering at the table is a
way of stepping outside of time and space. There are two understandings of
time. One, which is more western, is linear. Time has a beginning, a middle and
an end. The other, which is more eastern, is circular. Time moves in a circle.
Each stage of time is never far from any other stage. We have some of this in
our more western thinking don’t we? The seasons are circular. Perhaps even the
gaining and losing of hours through daylight and standard time is circular.

But to me when we come to this
table, linear time or circular -- our different understandings of time fall away.
It doesn’t matter. What matters is that at this table, we remember what Jesus
said and did. We lift up the same elements of life that he lifted – bread and
wine. At this table we catch a glimpse of what God will do in his lavish feast
for all. At this table we not only remember the saints but we sit at table with
them. This is not a ghost story. It is a recognition that the God we worship
does not exist in limited time, but beyond time. It is a recognition that we remain
connected to those who have gone before, even those we have never met, who
lived on this earth long before we did. At this table time falls away, and we partake
of God’s lavish feast with all the saints.

I read a story once of a young
pianist who was gifted in his art, but struggling with his continued mastery of
the instrument. His teacher, who recognized his frustration, leaned over and
gave him a kiss on the head. He told his student that this was Beethoven’s
kiss. When the teacher was a young and frustrated student, his teacher had
given him the same kiss. And that teacher’s teacher had done the same thing.
And that kiss had come from Beethoven. It was a kiss that was passed down from
one generation to the next. That kiss helped each student work through the
struggles they were having. That kiss inspired them, influenced them, pushed
them forward.

Maybe the story isn’t true. Maybe
Beethoven never passed on a kiss like that. But when I look at this table, when
I gather with you and all the saints at this table, I can hear my grandmother’s
voice and my friend’s booming laugh. When I gather at this table, I can hear
Jesus’ words about remembering him and I do. When I come to this table, I can
anticipate the rich food and the aged wines that the Lord is setting before us.
When I come to this table, I can actually taste and see that the Lord is good.
When I come to this table, I can feel God’s touch on my shoulder, hold hands
with the saints, and give joyful thanks for this lavish feast.